


Three: Harry & Ginny

by shessocold



Series: Four Weddings AND THAT'S IT [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Banter, Birthday Party, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Facial Shaving, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Fred Weasley Lives, Godfather Sirius Black, Grimmauld Place, Happy Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Influenza, Just the flu though I swear, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Reminiscing, Remus Lupin Lives, Sexual Roleplay, Showers, Sickfic, Sirius Black Lives, Smut, Surprise Party, Sweet, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, Weddings, surprise wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-04 13:43:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: Ginny takes a radical approach to wedding planning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YouBlitheringIdiot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouBlitheringIdiot/gifts).



> Huge shout-out to @Starstruck4Moony who helped me brainstorm basically everything about this <3

“Remus, can I have a word?”

“Sure, what can I help you with?” 

“In private,” adds Harry, jerking his head towards Sirius and Ginny. Sirius and Ginny are so engrossed in the Muggle motorcycle magazine they're poring over that Remus doubts they would hear a word of what Harry wants to tell him anyway, but he nods. 

“I'm going to show Harry that new book about Grindylows I just got. We'll be in the library, if you need us.” 

“Have fun!” says Sirius, without taking his eyes off the magazine. Ginny smiles enigmatically. 

** 

“So, Ginny and I are going to get married.” 

“Harry! Congratulations! That's wonderful.” 

Harry grins broadly. 

“Thank you.” 

“Have you set the date? Is Molly in a tizzy yet?” 

Harry laughs. 

“See, that's exactly what I wanted to discuss in private. Ginny says that if she has to sit through weeks of her mum making a huge fuss about things, she'd rather not be married – so we're having a surprise wedding. We're inviting everyone to what we'll say is just a regular party, and then boom, we get married. Of course we're going to have to tell a few people beforehand – Fred and George are going to help us set up the reception – Ron and Hermione are in on it, of course – Luna is going to officiate – Mr Weasley knows – all things considered, I guess what I'm trying to say is that we're _not_ telling Mrs Weasley, and...” 

“... and you're not telling Sirius,” finishes Remus for him, grinning. “Yeah, that's a smart decision. He would _never_ be able to keep something like that a secret, Molly would just need to take a look at him wagging his tail all over the place and she'd know something is up.” 

“You don't think he's going to take offence, right?” 

“Who, Sirius? Have you met him? He'll be high-fiving you for managing to pull off something like this, honestly.” 

“Right,” says Harry, with a smile. “I thought as much, but you know. I thought I'd better ask you.” 

Remus looks at Harry's happy face – it feels like it was just yesterday that he was a tiny little blob of a baby in James' arms, and now he's grown into such a brilliant, brave, handsome young man, a man who's going to get _married_ – and suddenly he understands why people cry at weddings. 

“Come here,” he says gruffly, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his robes. “Give me a hug.” 

** 

“A party? Nice! What's the occasion?” 

“Fifth anniversary of the Weasley twins' mail-order joke shop, apparently,” says Remus, handing Sirius the brightly coloured invitation. “Looks like they're going all out – well, they can afford it.” 

Sirius grins. 

“Brilliant,” he says. “This is going to be a lot of fun... weird, it says here we have to RSVP – I wonder what they could be planning that requires a precise headcount – probably some sort of spectacular prank,” he adds, gazing dreamily into the distance. 

“Most likely, yeah,” agrees Remus, turning his back on Sirius under the guise of levitating his empty tea mug into the sink. He's trying and failing to keep a straight face. “Well, I'm off to school – see you in the afternoon, Pads.” 

“I hope it's some sort of riff on the Canary Creams concept, I love those.” 

** 

“Have you ever thought about making things official?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Between us,” says Sirius, zooming an enchanted paper plane around their bedroom. “And I meant 'make things legal', I guess. Apply for a license, sign the register, all that stuff.” 

“Have you?” 

Sirius shrugs. 

“Sometimes, yeah. Mind, I don't think I would want anything public – you really can't top the sheer comedic value of the moment when it emerged that you didn't know my middle name, so what's the point – unless I manage to selectively Obliviate you, I guess – which _could_ actually be pretty fun – anyway – as I was saying, I don't really see the point of having a ceremony. We've said our vows, and as far as I'm concerned, we're as married as we'll ever be. But there's a part of me that longs to see it written down somewhere, I guess – Lupin and Black, a married couple in the eyes of the law.” 

Remus drops the book he's holding. 

“Wow,” he says, in amazement, staring at Sirius over the rim of his reading glasses. “That was the least Sirius-y thing you've ever said in your entire life. Are you sure you're really you? My instincts tell me Polyjuice Potion has to be involved somehow. ” 

“Don't be an arse,” says Sirius, directing his paper plane to fly at Remus' head. “This is what you agreed to when you promised you'd take me to be your wedded husband, for better, for worse...” 

“I never said that, actually. You're making it up.” 

“... for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health – I'd say that definitely covers my sudden realization that I wouldn't mind being, er, law-abiding, for once in my life. Shameful as that sounds. If you ever tell anybody about this conversation we're having, by the way, I'm going to kill you – mourning clothing would actually suit me quite nicely, I think, so I see no downsides.” 

Remus grins. 

“Your secret is safe with me, don't worry. With one exception – I'm _definitely_ going to tell James, if you kill me.” 

“You _can't_!” yelps Sirius, in outrage. 

“Of course I can, it says it right there in the vows that I never actually said and that you just quoted to further your cause – _till death do us part_. Everything after that is fair game, I'm sorry – I don't make the rules.” 

“All right, all right, I take back my death treaths, are you happy now?” 

“Very, yes, thank you,” confirms Remus, smiling. “Now call off the paper plane, please – there's a good lad. So, when do you plan on doing it?” 

“Doing what?” 

“Making an honest werewolf of me in the eyes of the Ministry, of course.” 

“Wait, do you mean you would actually... ?” 

“Merlin's beard, Sirius, did you really think that I was going to say no?” says Remus, grinning at Sirius' look of deepest elation. “Have I ever shot down any of your ideas, in all the years you've known me? Let alone something like this, virtually the most sensible suggestion you've ever put forth – possibly tied with that one time you made us skive Potions and practise blow-jobs in the seventh floor broom cupboard instead, come to think of it.” 

“You know what, now that you mention it I would also quite like to see that written down somewhere – Lupin and Black, a couple of individuals who've always had their priorities straight.” 

Remus snorts. 

“Well, that's true. Pretty much the only straight thing about us as a couple _and_ as individuals, though.” 

Sirius grins. 

“I'll make sure they get _that_ in writing, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that's what the Room of Requirement turns into when you are teenagers and you just *need* to find somewhere private for impellent dick sucking reasons.
> 
> Here’s Sirius and Remus’ spontaneous vows exchange: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13112109


	2. Chapter 2

Remus wakes up feeling like he's been trampled by wild hippogriffs.

“Ugh, I feel like shit,” he croaks. No answer from Sirius. Remus turns on his side, fully intending to poke Sirius awake and elicit some sympathy, and he's shocked to discover that the other half of the bed is empty. 

Sirius never gets up early, let alone while Remus is still sleeping. _Maybe he's sick too_ , thinks Remus vaguely. _Do we still have some Pepper-Up Potion left from when he had flu last year?_ he wonders, his throat too sore for him to call out and tell Sirius not to drink it all, if they do. _Ugh, I need some water._

** 

The mystery of Sirius' whereabouts is at last unveiled a few minutes later, when – whistling merrily and carrying a breakfast tray – he appears at their bedroom door. 

_I must be hallucinating,_ concludes Remus, clutching the glass of water he's just conjured and staring in disbelief at the very nicely arranged breakfast Sirius has put together. Sirius beams at him. 

“You're awake! Good morning, Moony. I think we should do it today.” 

“Do what?” says Remus, squinting in the sudden sunlight as Sirius flicks his wand at the curtains. 

“Go to the register office. I looked it up, we need to give them a week's notice – if we go today, we can get married on your birthday!” says Sirius, and he looks so genuinely excited that Remus doesn't have the heart to tell him he doubts he'd be able to drag himself downstairs, let alone all the way to the Ministry. Sirius smiles encouragingly, gesturing at the breakfast tray. “Tuck in, c'mon. I don't want it to get cold, I spent ages getting everything just right.” 

“Wait a second,” says Remus, eyeing the food suspiciously, “since when do you know how to cook?” 

Sirius grins. 

“Look, Moony – remember how I was top of the year at school? How I nailed the whole Animagus thing when I was sixteen? Don't tell me you really thought French toast would stump me, please.” 

Remus laughs, bringing about a small fit of coughing. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” he says, waving aside Sirius' slight look of concern. “Just wondering why exactly did I spend our whole lives being the only one who ever lifts a wand in the kitchen, when it turns out you're also perfectly good at cooking.” 

“Well, I _really_ like it when you cook for me,” says Sirius, coyly. “And you never seemed to mind.” 

“I didn't,” confirms Remus, swallowing a mouthful of French toast. “I love feeling like I'm taking care of you, for reasons that might or might not include the fact that you sometimes stare at me with actual, literal puppy eyes. This is excellent, by the way – I think I'm going to put you on breakfast duty from here on. You might have made a huge mistake here, Black.” 

** 

“Is that steam coming out of your ears?” 

“I don't think so,” says Remus, in the most dignified tone he can muster. 

“Looks a lot like steam – what were you doing in the bathroom, exactly?” 

“Are you _quite_ done staring at my ears, Sirius?” hisses Remus, reaching into his coat pocket for his woolly hat. The day is sunny but not particularly warm, and he's already regretting having said yes to Sirius' plan of walking and then taking the Muggle underground, instead of Apparating like normal people, but he appreciates how much care Sirius seems to have put into planning the whole thing, and he doesn't want to spoil the day for him. 

Still – lycanthropy aside – he's not used to feeling poorly, and apart from the faintly steamy ears he doesn't think the (possibly expired?) Pepper-Up Potion he found in their bathroom cabinet is having much of an effect on him. His throat still feels awfully sore, in any case. Sirius looks a bit taken aback. 

“Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude,” says Remus, grabbing Sirius' hand. “I'm just feeling a bit under the weather, that's all.” 

“What? Why didn't you tell me? We shouldn't go trampling all over London if you're not feeling well, Moony.” 

Sirius looks mortified. Remus feels like kicking himself for bringing the subject up. 

“It's nothing, honestly. Just a bit of a sore throat,” he says, bracingly. Sirius doesn't look like he's buying it. Remus grins. “We're going to give that notice, or die trying.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“What, about dying? That was a bit of hyperbole, actually, but you know...” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. 

“Are you sure that you are feeling well enough to be outside, I meant.” 

“Completely sure.” 

“We're Apparating, though,” says Sirius, and he suddenly sounds a lot like Molly. “I don't want you out in this cold more than it is strictly necessary.” 

** 

“Go back to bed, Remus, I'm fixing you a cup of tea,” says Sirius, once they get back from the Ministry. 

Remus laughs. 

“You know, I always get worried when you call me by my given name,” he says, amused by Sirius' solicitous tone. “It either means that you've just realized you've done something stupid even by your standards, or that you don't think I'll live to see the following day.” 

“I will fix you a cup of tea _and then_ I will spit into it,” retorts Sirius, haughtily. "You ungrateful prick.” 

“Love you too, dear.” 

** 

“You're burning up,” insists Sirius, sounding even more miserable than Remus feels. 

“Sirius, calm down, please.” 

“Try taking the Lung Clearing Potion, at least.” 

“It's no use, it says right there on the label that it only works on human beings.” 

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?” says Sirius, hotly. 

Remus closes his eyes and lies back against the pillow, his head pounding. 

“Sirius, please. I'm not trying to be all ontological about it. I honestly don't care. I just know for a fact that if it says that, it won't work on a werewolf. I just want to take a nap, OK?” 

“I'll go out and get whatever the werewolf equivalent is, then,” says Sirius, testily. 

“Love, I really don't think that's a thing,” says Remus, smiling faintly. 

“And what's a werewolf supposed to do when he’s sick?” says Sirius, indignantly. 

“I don’t know,” says Remus, tiredly. “I doubt many people care, frankly.” 

“Of course people care — they figured out how to make the Wolfsbane Potion, didn’t they? 

“Yeah, and now they make us pay through the nose for it. Not the same thing as a cough potion, is it? Besides, there wouldn’t be much of a market — werewolves rarely get sick.” 

“Wait, really? Does that mean there’s something wrong with you? That’s it, I’m taking you to St Mungo’s.” 

“I said ‘rarely’, Sirius,” says Remus, grinning in spite of himself at the fact that Sirius looks ready to wrestle him into submission if that’s what it takes to get him to a Healer. “I promise I‘m fine.” 

“I hate that I can’t do anything to make you feel better,” says Sirius, sadly. “Can I at least hold you for a bit?” 

“I don’t want you to get sick too, love.” 

“I don’t care.” 

** 

When Remus next wakes up — hours later, because of a very full bladder, feeling a bit better already — Sirius is asleep on a chair drawn right up to Remus’ bedside, the way he would when Remus had to spend the night in the school infirmary after a rough full moon. His dark head rests at an uncomfortable angle on his crossed arms, just a few inches from where Remus' legs lie under the covers. Remus feels his own eyes prickle suspiciously. 

“I love you so much,” he says, in a very quiet voice. Sirius doesn’t stir. “And because I have you, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for a sickfic -- provided it's "sick" as in "isn't flu the worst", not in a "and then he gets cancer of the hair AND DIES TRAGICALLY AND THEN A METEORITE FALLS ON THE FUNERAL PROCESSION AND EVERYBODY HE LOVES DIES TRAGICALLY TOO."
> 
> Also if you're reading this fic in the hope of educating yourself on pre-wedding proceeding in the UK, you actually need to give 28 days' notice to your local register office if you are a Muggle. You're welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this might not make much sense if you haven't read this other fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13032513

The night before, they go out for fish and chips.

“Let's step in there for a second,” says Remus, on their way back. 

“In the alley?” says Sirius, looking unconvinced. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I have a plan.” 

“All right, then.” 

Sirius' lips taste like the malt vinegar he likes to douse his chips in. Remus kisses him for a few minutes – which is not part of his plan, strictly speaking, but also not something he's likely to ever shy away from, especially not after Sirius evidently overcomes his doubts about alleys and insinuates his hand down the front of Remus' trousers – and then gently pulls away from the embrace. 

“Do you have anything you need to do at home?” 

A brief pause. 

“Nothing that I can think of, why?” 

“OK, then. Hold onto my arm,” says Remus, and he Disapparates them both. 

** 

Sirius laughs. 

“It seemed fitting,” explains Remus, grinning. He knows that Sirius knows exactly why he chose this particular spot on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. “Sort of auspicious, if you catch my drift.” 

“You know, I spent most of 1974 trying to convince myself that you hadn't noticed.” 

“What a coincidence! I also spent most of the year thinking about that very same episode, but mostly in a 'that was probably the single best moment in my entire life' sort of way.” 

“Do you even remember what we were fighting about? I don't. All the details were obliterated by the sudden awareness that you had me pinned to the ground and I had popped a boner.” 

“Funnily enough, dear, that's also everything I remember about the whole thing.” 

Sirius sighs. 

“You should have gone ahead and kissed me, Moony. Merlin knows I would have enjoyed that.” 

“Are you insane? Legilimency couldn't have persuaded 14-year-old me that you were horny because of me. I'd have sooner believed that you were really excited about the weather.” 

“To be fair, 1974 _did_ probably feature at least a handful of weather-induced erections on my part.” 

Remus snorts. 

“How did we make it to our sixth year without going insane, exactly? Oh wait, I forgot _you_ didn't have to wait...” 

Sirius rolls his eyes. 

“Will you ever let me live that thing with Marlene down?” 

“No, because the idea that you _both_ let sheer physical beauty get in the way of blatant sexual incompatibility will always be very funny to me.” 

Sirius grins. 

“I wouldn't say 'blatant' – I did fancy her, you know. Or the idea of her, at least. But she was really, really _not_ into blokes, that I can tell you. I guess I'm glad that I helped her sort that out.” 

“She probably figured that if she didn't enjoy dating you, she wouldn't enjoy dating any other man on the planet,” says Remus, loyally. “You're pretty much the golden standard. Smart move on her part, coming straight for you. Probably saved her some time.” 

They're silent for a bit. Remus wonders if Sirius is also thinking about Marlene's eventual fate. 

“Have you ever been with someone else?” asks Sirius instead. “It just occured to me that I've never actually asked you. You don't have to answer if you don't want to.” 

“Oh,” says Remus, taken by surprise. “Yeah, I did, actually. A few people, over the years. Do you – do you mind?” 

“Mind? Don't be absurd, Moony,” says Sirius, squeezing Remus' hand. “You had every right, and frankly I would have hated the idea of you all alone for all those years. I'm just glad that – that it was me again in the end, you know.” 

“It was always you. You know that perfectly well,” says Remus, grinning. “At this point, you just enjoy hearing me say it again and again.” 

“I can neither confirm or deny the veracity of that accusation, but I do have a statement to make – and that statement is 'suck it, assorted exes of Moony's – I triumphed'.” 

“They're not my _exes_ , it's just a bunch of people I slept with. No, _not_ at the same time, Pads, you pervert. To tell you the truth, most of them probably barely even remember me.” 

“Oh, I seriously doubt that,” says Sirius. “Unless you only break out the fancy techniques when you're with me.” 

“Maybe I do.” 

“Ooh.” 

** 

“I thought we were going to go home,” says Sirius, kissing Remus' neck. “And break out the fancy techniques.” 

“Don't worry, we are,” says Remus, undoing the protective enchantments on the front door of his old cottage. “Breaking out the fancy techniques, that is. I just liked the idea of spending the night here. You know, for symbolic reasons – all the stuff about us getting back together – I'm feeling sentimental, you see.” 

“Does that mean that you brought me here to give you a commemorative blow-job? Brilliant.” 

“Well – that's pretty much what I had in mind, yes.” 

** 

“You know, if we're striving for celebratory accuracy we should probably go upstairs–” 

“For fuck's sake, Moony, you've spent the night dragging me into alleys and then all the way up to Hogsmeade and then all the way back to Yorkshire, and you've snogged me extensively at every turn, and a man's patience has its limits. The sofa is fine.” 

“All right, all right!” 

“Now cooperate, before I have to resort to Vanishing your trousers.” 

** 

“You know what? I haven't had one in... I don't know, something like twenty years, but right now I would give anything for a cigarette.” 

Remus laughs. 

“I don't know whether I should be flattered that my ministrations brought you to this state,” he muses, stroking Sirius' damp hair. “Or if I should scold you for even beginning to think about taking up smoking again.” 

“Shut up, you loved it when I used to smoke.” 

“I did not! It's bad for your health, and it made your clothes smell.” 

“Yeah, but I distinctly remember the way you used to look at me when I had a cigarette between my lips.” 

“That's immaterial – you look fucking sexy with _anything_ between your lips.” 

“Oh, do I? Good to know.” 

** 

“Goodnight, Moony.” 

“Goodnight, Sirius.” 

“I'm really excited for tomorrow, you know?” 

“I know. I can't wait.” 

“I love you.” 

Remus smiles in the darkness. 

“I love you too. See you in the morning, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius will probably get really into lollipops now.
> 
> Obligatory visual reference for the 1974 incident: http://asktheboywholived.tumblr.com/post/169471030360/sore-loser-ooc-based-on-this-text-post


	4. Chapter 4

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOONY!_

“You do know you're the only one who still calls me Moony, right?” 

Sirius grins. 

“I'm also the only one who made you a banner, so I reckon I can have it say whatever I please.” 

“I'll just be grateful that you kept the message clean, in that case.” 

“Wait 'til you see the one I made for our bedroom.” 

** 

It's an excellent party, raucous and fun. They eat down in the kitchen, where it's cosier and they can keep an eye on the food as it cooks. Sirius – as a special birthday treat – lets Remus sit at the head of the table, on the chair that he generally keeps for himself. 

“Don't get too used to it,” he advises, squeezing Remus' shoulder. “It's only for tonight.” 

“I'll try not to let it get to my head,” promises Remus, to general laughter. 

“Did you do anything fun today, Remus?” says Ginny, helping herself to a generous portion of roasted potatoes. “Not that anything could beat getting to sit in the nice chair, but still...” 

Sirius grins. 

“Yeah, _Remus_ , did you do anything fun today?” 

Remus blushes. 

“Go on, then. You tell 'em.” 

“Tell us what?” says Harry. 

“Well, Harry, earlier this afternoon Moony here and I took a nice leisurely stroll through central London, a stroll which brought us in front of the Minister for Magic himself,” says Sirius, tipping his goblet to Kingsley, “and the Minister was kind enough to finally help us put right something we should have settled ages ago.” 

Harry looks slightly bewildered. 

“I'm not sure I– ” 

“They got _married_ , Harry!” squeals Hermione. “You did, right? Congratulations! Oh, this is so exciting – a surprise wedding!” 

Ron chokes on his Butterbeer. Harry goes very pale. Ginny snorts. Hermione realizes what she has just said, and turns bright red. Remus, with considerable effort, manages not to laugh. 

“Yes, Hermione, we did,” he says, beaming at her. “We figured it was time, after all these years.” 

“Sorry about springing it on you all after the fact,” says Sirius. “I promise it wasn't much of a ceremony – we just needed to get the formalities out of the way.” 

“I can vouch to that,” says Arthur, grinning. “Little more than a few signatures, really.” 

“You were there, Arthur?” says Molly, who to Remus' great relief seems more amused than outraged at the idea of people getting married in secret. “Why you, of all people?” 

“We were handy, Molly, and they needed witnesses,” says Tonks, also grinning. “Although I do suspect that they asked me mainly because they wanted to see me write 'Nymphadora' on the register.” 

“I resent the accusation,” says Remus, hiding his smile into a goblet of wine. 

“Congratulations!” says Harry, who seems to have finally overcome his initial shock. “I really did not see that coming – I'm so happy for you!” 

“You don't mind the fact that we didn't really have a wedding, do you?” says Sirius. “You know I would have asked you to be my best man if– ” 

“Not at all,” says Harry, shaking his head emphatically. “It's your day, you don't need to worry about what anybody else thinks you should do.” 

“Hear, hear,” says Remus, but very quietly, so that Sirius doesn't notice. Ginny is overtaken by such an attack of the giggles that she has to duck under the table. Sirius and Harry hug. 

“Congratulations!” says Ron, to Remus. “But I did sort of assume that you already– ” 

Hermione elbows hims in the ribs. 

“ _Ron_!” 

“What? They've been wearing those rings for ages, how was I supposed to know?” 

“Still, it's none of our business.” 

Remus laughs. 

“He's not wrong, Hermione,” he says, fairly. “We did exchange the rings years ago, at the very beginning of the war – and that was already more than enough, as far as I was concerned, but Sirius felt that we also needed the actual piece of paper, so here we are. I'm very happy that he insisted.” 

“That's so romantic,” says Hermione, with a happy sigh. Ron looks like he's taking mental notes. 

“Let's have a toast!” says Tonks, raising her goblet. “To Remus, the latest addition to the lately, er, vastly improved House of Black. And to Sirius, obviously. Congratulations on getting hitched! Oh, and also happy birthday, Remus – all right, everybody, bottoms up!” 

** 

“Moony, come give me a hand,” calls Sirius, hours later, from the drawing room. “There's something I want to check, but I can't move this thing on my own.” 

“Something you want to check, behind the bookshelf?” 

“Trust me on this.” 

“Wait, isn't that ghastly old tapestry on the wall behind – _ooh_ ,” says Remus, having finally caught on. “Surely you don't think... ? Tonks was joking, I reckon.” 

“She was, but it got me thinking. Wouldn't it be funny if your name was on there?” 

Remus grins. 

“As long as I get to keep my own last name.” 

Sirius grins back. 

“You see, people getting married to people who have a different last name isn't a situation this particular tapestry has found itself facing too often, I'm afraid,” he says, pretending to ponder the issue. “There's really no telling how it might react.” 

Remus laughs. 

“Love, you really shouldn't go around telling people that.” 

** 

“You know, that's quite fanciful as far as depictions of genitalia go,” says Remus, grinning up at the rude banner Sirius has hung over their bedroom door. “Mind you, I'm not saying that I'm not flattered.” 

“It's an artist's impression.” 

Remus snorts. 

“Say, does the artist want to get even more impressed? I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” 

“Moony, that was a terrible line even for _my_ standards.” 

“What can I say? You've been rubbing off on me.” 

“OK, that's just too easy, it's no fun.” 

Remus smiles. 

“You know what's both easy _and_ fun, Sirius dear? No? Well, let me show you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is the Dean 'handy with a quill' Thomas of his generation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PytxPaU6k4

_Oh and I remember something you once told me, and I'll be damned if it did not come true..._

Remus waits until Sirius is rinsing his razor before speaking, because Sirius shaves with a straight razor and Remus doesn't want to startle him while he's holding something that sharp against his throat. 

“I thought you objected to American music.” 

“I do,” says Sirius, in his posh accent. “Honestly, I just don't see why they can't make an effort and pronounce their words properly. But I like this one. It makes me think of you. ” 

Remus listens to a few more bars of the song. 

“Not the part about the calico bonnet, I hope.” 

Sirius grins. 

“Well, that would be an interesting look on you,” he says, his head tilted back so that he can finish shaving under his chin. Remus finds himself staring. 

“I love to watch you shave.” 

“Does it turn you on?” 

“Hmm. Actually, it's more that I like to make sure that you're not trying to grow that stupid goatee again,” lies Remus, with a smirk. “That was a pretty low point for you, love.” 

“You just don't understand fashion, my poor unrefined Moony,” says Sirius, with a sigh. “If the goatee look was good enough for Bowie, it was definitely good enough for me.” 

“Bowie couldn't pull it off, Pads, and you couldn't either.” 

“You leave Bowie alone,” cautions Sirius, staring at Remus' reflection with narrowed eyes. 

Remus laughs. 

“Well, I hope you find it in you to forgive my blasphemy. In the meanwhile, I'll be downstairs grading papers.” 

** 

“I lied,” announces Remus, joining Sirius on the drawing room sofa. “Watching you shave _did_ turn me on. It's not easy to focus on the peculiarities of Kappas when you have a stiffy.” 

“Professor!” says Sirius, mock-scandalized, from behind his copy of the _Prophet_. “Language!” 

Remus frowns. 

“Don't push your luck, Black,” he says, rubbing the spot where his reading glasses rested until a few minutes earlier. “You know perfectly well that your grades have been slipping.” 

Sirius snorts. 

“At least make it vaguely plausible, Moony, or I can't get into it. Honestly, _bad grades_ – try giving me detention instead.” 

“Oh, I will. And it's professor Lupin to you, Black.” 

“Yes, professor. Sir,” says Sirius, in a tone that undermines his words completely. Remus had vague plans to make Sirius suck him off, but he now finds he'd much rather be the one to drop to his knees. He tries to come up with a decent way to make the activity fit into their little unsubordinate student/strict professor setup – _for your detention, I am going to suck your dick... badly, I guess, so that it counts as punishment_ – and suddenly he's struggling to keep a straight face. 

“What's funny?” 

“Nothing, sorry. I don't think I'm very good at playing the pervy teacher – all I can think about is that I'd really like to suck you off.” 

“Well, that's decently pervy,” says Sirius, encouragingly. 

“Yes, but it's not very in character, is it? I should be making _you_ suck me off, or spank you–” 

“Or make me write lines. _I must stop staring at the outline of professor Lupin's huge cock._ ” 

Remus closes his eyes for a second. 

“OK, you're _very_ good at this. Go on.” 

** 

“Do we really have to go to the Weasley twins' party? I'm pretty sure I'll be good to go again if you just let me have a quick nap first.” 

Remus sits up, alarmed. 

“Wait, is it today?” 

“Yeah,” says Sirius, with a yawn. “In about an hour. Who throwns a party at four in the afternoon, anyway?” 

** 

“I hate having to shower twice in a day,” says Sirius. “My skin is very sensitive, you know.” 

“You poor thing,” says Remus, prodding Sirius unceremoniously into the shower stall. 

Sirius hisses and tries to jump back out. 

“The water is _freezing_ , Moony, are you insane?” 

Remus follows him into the stall. 

“It's actually perfectly pleasant,” he says, cheerfully. “You know, maybe your skin wouldn't get so dry if you didn't take scalding showers every day.” 

“You're trying to kill me,” accuses Sirius, shivering in a corner. “You're a cruel, twisted man, Remus Lupin.” 

Remus grins. 

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he inquires, soaping up his armpits. 

Sirius glares at him. 

“The opposite of that, actually. And not only because of the effect that these jets of ice water are having on my poor bits,” he says, cupping his hands protectively over his crotch. 

Remus laughs. 

“Come here, you delicate little flower. I'll warm you up.” 

** 

They end up being slightly late to the party, for which Remus feels extremely guilty, especially once he spots Harry's rather tense face in the crowd. 

“Sirius!” cries Harry, hurrying towards his godfather. “Remus! I'm so glad you made it.” 

“Hi, Harry,” says Sirius, clearly a bit puzzled by the intensity of Harry's greeting (they have had him and Ginny over for dinner two days earlier). “Good to see you!” 

“Hi, Remus,” says Ginny, grinning from behind Harry. She's wearing a pair of blue jeans and a jumper. Remus thinks of Molly and feels very impressed by Ginny's nerve. “Don't worry, you're not the last ones. We're still waiting for Tonks and Kingsley – apparently he got held up by the Norwegian Minister, something about dragons again... oh, here they come, I think. Let's go find Fred and George, Harry. See you later, Remus – Sirius –” 

Sirius turns to face Remus. 

“Did Harry look a bit nervous to you, too?” 

Remus does his best to suppress a grin. 

“Not especially, no. Why would he be nervous?” 

“I probably imagined it, then,” says Sirius, with a shrug. “Well, let's go check the buffet. I'm pretty hungry – your fault, by the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) You're a snob, Sirius. Leave the Americans alone.
> 
> 2) Bowie did not, in fact, pull off the goatee look. Neither did Sirius.
> 
>  


End file.
